End Of An Era
by lightatmidnight
Summary: In the middle of 1997, as McGonagall reflects on the past 7 years of Hogwarts, she is drawn to thinking of Harry Potter, who is fighting for the Wizarding World.  A tribute to the end of the Harry Potter series


Inspired by the song, End of An Era by Oliver and the Remembralls.

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><p><em>End of An Era<em>

Minerva McGonagall sat in her office, listening to the muttered radio, of reporting deaths, most likely caused by Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Dressed in a tartan night gown, she sat, sipping herbal tea. For the moment, all was peaceful, at Hogwarts. The Carrows were rather quiet, although she knew they were waiting to pounce. They were keeping watch at the House towers lately.

Anyone with a brain knew that they were away doing something for their master. But for now, McGonagall was enjoying a rather peaceful night. Nothing was really going on. The sky was a deep blue for once, rather than the dismal colorless gray that seemed to be the habit these days. The grass was green, and it was times like these, that she liked to reminisce about days past.

It seemed just yesterday that she'd started as a student at Hogwarts. And a small passage of time between now and when she'd started teaching. How quickly the students had gone buy. Even the famous, 'Marauders' had left as quickly as they'd come. How many pranks had they pulled? How many jokes they had made? Even at her expense? And then, one of them, a talented young man, had married another rather bright young lady, and together, they had possibly the most famous child the Wizarding World had ever known. Harry Potter.

16 years ago, almost 17, she had witnessed the household that the one year old had been forced to live in. In an ignorant muggle home, filled with three people. An insolent chubby blubbering man, a prissy uptight jealous sister, and a spoiled brat of a child. Harsh words indeed, but Minerva had no patience for people with no compassion.

She had observed with distaste at the family's lifestyle, awaiting Dumbledore's arrival. She allowed, with horror, for the innocent little boy, the defeater over the Darkest Wizard of all time, to come to a house where he'd be kicked around like an old shoe, unappreciated.

Reaching into her desk drawer, she saw the seven year old piece of parchment. A copy of the many letters she had sent to Harry, informing him of his magical talent as well as his acceptance to Hogwarts.

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_

_Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE_

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall,_

_Deputy Headmistress_

Greeting them, she searched the incoming class to see an exact carbon copy of James Potter with the exception of the bright green eyes that looked hauntingly similar to those of Lily Evans. There was no doubt. This was Harry Potter.

She'd crossed her fingers in private as the Sorting Hat was placed on his head. There was a long moment of turmoil, before the hat finally called, "GRYFFINDOR!" She had smiled as the Great Hall was clouded with claps and cheers.

She had kept tabs on him, noting his magical talents, which would lie mainly in Defense, rather than Transfiguration as she'd hoped. Harry had quickly made friends, with Ronald Weasley, loyal, as well as Hermione Granger, a very clever Muggleborn witch. He seemed rather closed off, more attuned to having a tight knit group of friends rather than a large amount of friends. Nevertheless, he was popular. One talent of Harry's was his extraordinary skill at flying. The moment she saw him dive straight down to get a small object of a student's, she knew he was a natural born Seeker.

Minerva had appealed to Dumbledore for his allowance of Harry onto the Gryffindor Quidditch team. She'd gotten him his first broomstick. She may not have shown it, but she was rather proud of the young boy. So many trials at his young age.

Throughout his second and third years, he'd faced so many challenges and obstacles, put up not by himself, but by his enemies. There were flashes of moments where he seemed just like James, running around the castle causing trouble. But then there were the moments where he seemed like Lily, his anger getting the best of him.

Other days, he was just Harry. He did things unexpectedly to help his friends. Fourth year had come, and the worst possible thing had occurred. Harry had been entered the Triwizard Tournament as the fourth champion.

The entire year, she'd seen the teachers tensed up, half because of the competing schools, half because there were two Hogwarts champions. The first sense that something was wrong was during the maze. Fleur had already been taken out of the maze, having been cursed. Krum had to be taken care of, and Dumbledore had revealed, with worry on his face, that he had been Imperiused. That was the moment when they knew something had gone wrong.

Someone had tampered with the competition. But there were two champions still in the maze. Two who were not coming out. Professor Moody, who had been surveying the maze, replied that the two had grasped the cup and disappeared. The cup was a Portkey.

The crowd had grown antsy, and most people were anxious to see the result. They all still thought it was a game. That this delayed wait was necessary.

Until at least three hours after Krum had come out of the maze, Harry and Cedric Diggory had come out of nowhere, flashing into existence. The crowd began to cheer excitedly, but the fervor faded away instantly when they realized that while Harry was clutching his wrist and resisting Dumbledore's efforts to get him up, Cedric wasn't moving at all.

The boy was dead. He was murdered. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had returned. And Harry had seen it all.

However that summer, the Ministry had tried to make Dumbledore and Harry out as fools. Fools for telling the truth. Now, Minerva was usually a calm person, but the fury at the Ministry's inabilities was inescapable. The Wizarding World was being told that Harry was an attention seeker. And for what? To escape the inevitable.

Not to mention Umbridge, the evil little - - lady for the Ministry, who had tried interfering with Hogwarts, with little magical ability and a lack of understanding of people.

Meanwhile, people were dying all over, a sign of Voldemort's return. It was a pang in her heart when she'd heard that Sirius Black had died. Regardless of the many pranks they'd pulled, the Marauders would always have a special place in her heart. Peter had already betrayed them. Remus was the only one left.

The entire Wizarding World had been shaken when Dumbledore was murdered. The greatest wizard of all time had been murdered.

After that, nothing had been the same. This year had started horribly, with Severus Snape, the murderer of Dumbledore named headmaster. She hadn't believed that he would betray Dumbledore like that. But he had. The three, Hermione, Ronald, and Harry had not returned for their seventh year. She hadn't expected any of them to. Ron had been reported by his family to have dragon pox, and Hermione was suspected to have gone into hiding, as she was a Muggleborn. Harry on the other hand, had gone into a sort of hiding that made many jealous.

Minerva had heard one student saying, "The whole world's looking for him, and he's disappeared off the face of the Earth." Coming back to Hogwarts would have been suicide for Harry.

It was suspected that Harry had simply been in hiding. Meanwhile, Minerva knew that the three of them were not wherever they claimed to be. They'd all gone to achieve something.

That had been proven when there was a claimed break in at the Ministry. It was reported that Dolores Umbridge had been stunned, and her room searched. Minerva had raised a toast to them in private.

Meanwhile at Hogwarts, many students were disappearing. Mostly those of the privately reformed Dumbledore's Army. After Luna Lovegood had been taken off the train, and Ginny Weasley had not returned after spring break, Neville Longbottom had disappeared completely, followed by a long string of disappearances throughout Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, and Hufflepuff.

Lee was talking on the radio. "The paper says, there's been a massive break-in at Gringotts. There are rumors that the entire bank has been destroyed, with Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ronald Weasley escaping on a dragon. Only one thing appears to have been stolen, although the object has not been identified. Cheers to the three of them for managing to rob a bank in style."

Minerva wanted to laugh, but knew it wasn't the time to. She simply sat back in her chair, thinking of the many things that had gone on in the past seven years. So much had happened. So many trials. So many challenges. So many.

It was hard to believe there would be an end.

As she took another sip of tea, there was a tap at her door. "Professor McGonagall," a voice called.

"Come in," she responded, sitting up. The door creaked open and Lucy, 3rd year Ravenclaw appeared at the door. It pained Minerva to see that Lucy had many cuts on her face.

"Professor, Professor Carrow was just stunned in our tower. Someone said something about Harry Potter being there too."

"What?" Minerva practically leapt out of her chair.

So here she stood, looking at the remains of Hogwarts. The Battle had ended. Voldemort was dead. Order was being restored.

Meanwhile, Harry had long since disappeared off into the crowd.

It was okay. There was a time to talk to him either way.

She wanted to tell him how proud she was of him. For standing up against the pressure at the mere age of 17.

But then again, when had this boy ever acted his age.

He was an exceptional boy. When she'd first seen him at the age of one, dropped off at a doorstep, ready for several long years of neglect, she had not dreamed that this would be the result.

She was proud. Proud of Harry for standing up for what he believed in.

Because deep down inside, he wasn't a hero because of what he had accomplished. But rather, he was a hero because of what he had sacrificed in order to accomplish what he had to.

So she looked up at the peaceful blue sky of the morning and gave a silent thanks.

A thanks to everyone in the Wizarding World who had made the defeat possible. Because as extraordinary as Harry was, he wouldn't have been able to defeat Voldemort without everyone else. Dumbledore. Lily and James. Ron and Hermione. Sirius. Remus. And the countless others who had sought to find the end.

Harry's story was so incredible, she doubted anybody would believe it if it was completely revealed. It would take several books to write it all down.

Because this, Minerva reflected, was like an end. A closure to something that had began on October 31st, 1997.

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><p>Today is the day is the 14 year mark since Harry Potter was first published in the UK. June 30th, 1997. 14 years of revolutionary occurrences. The fastest selling book in history. Best selling author of the decade. 3407 pages (UK) or 4195 pages (US) total.<p>

As fans, we have been brought together by this series. Bound by our love for Harry and the many great characters first developed in the mind of JK Rowling.

The movie, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows part 2 will come out in America and Britain on July 15th, 2011. It's going to be the end. Ever since the book series ended on July 21st, 2007, as fans we have been dependent on the films to bring us smiles and tears.

But whichever we like it or not, the final chapter is approaching. After 14 great years, the series is about to reach its end.

There is no replacement for Harry Potter. There never will be. Because, many of us have grown up with Harry, have learned, have cried, have laughed with him.

And so this was written as a tribute. A tribute to the end of an era.

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><p><em>"Don't you ever wonder what will happen when it ends. How can we let go of the ones who we call friends. And I know, it's only a story, but for so many it's more than that. It's a world, all on its own where we want to put on the sorting hat." -End of An Era, Oliver and The Remembralls<em>


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